We Band of Brothers
by DocJorgensen
Summary: Series of one-shots reflecting on the trio of brothers, Siegfried, James and Tristan. Will be continued.
1. Warmth

**Title: **Warmth

**Author name:** DocJorgensen  
**Category**: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Angst.  
**Characters: **James Herriot, Siegfried Farnon

**Ships: **None.

**Rating:** K  
**Spoilers: **None.  
**Summary: **James thinks about how nice it is to know Siegfried. One-Shot.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own anything, unfortunately.  
**Author Notes:** I like James more than Tristan. Sue me.

_**Dedication:**__ To __toxophilate4__, the brave soul who writes exquisite ACGAS fic and who is taking on "A Lamb To Slaughter". _

Calls in the middle of night were the worst. But calls in the middle of a snowstorm, in the middle of the night, when I had to answer them, were absolute hell. The _bring - bring _of the telephone woke me from a sound sleep, and I rushed out to get the phone, my feet freezing on the flagstones.

A calving. Now, at 2 o'clock. What on earth was I doing, being a vet? Why not get a job that was warm and regular? I shook my head, and rushed to my room, dressing quickly. The Clayton farm was a long way off, and I could only hope to not get stuck in any snow drifts.

I shut my door quietly but to no avail. Siegfried opened his door, doubtless wakened by the noise.

"What was it, James?" His voice was warm with sleep, with just his dressing gown thrown over his pajamas.

"A calving, at the Clayton's." Siegfried frowned and looked as though he would step closer.

"In this weather?" I nodded. He stretched out one hand, and then rather awkwardly thrust it into his dressing gown pocket. "Well, be careful then, James."

"I will, Siegfried." I murmured quietly, and he returned to his room.

The calving took several hours, and I was frozen solid by the time it was done, caked in blood and dirt and God knows what else. The drive home was miserable and I was still stiff and blue with cold when I came in the house.

"Good God, James! You look awful." Siegfried cried as he saw me coming into the front entrance. I was in no mood to say anything at all. He took one of my arms and steered me to the parlor.

Quickly he wrapped me in an afghan, and shoving my shoulders, pushed me onto the couch. His grey eyes warm with concern, and worry, stared at me.

Several warm drinks later, I felt warmer, though Siegfried still watched me concernedly. He gently squeezed my knee, saying

"Better?"

"Yes, much thanks. I think I'll go run a bath." I got up, admittedly rather unsteadily, and staggered off to bathe.

I never told Siegfried that his waiting up for me, worrying about me even, was more warmth than an afghan, a warm drink or a bath could ever give.


	2. Steady

**Title: **Steady

**Author name:** DocJorgensen  
**Category**: Friendship, Romance  
**Characters: **Helen, Siegfried, James, Tristan, Richard Edmundson

**Ships: **Helen/James

**Rating:** K  
**Spoilers: **If you don't know James is married to Helen, well…  
**Summary: **Helen thinks about why she married James.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own anything. Still.  
**Author Notes:** Enjoy.

_**Dedication:**__ For R.A., see? I understand. The silence calls._

James often wonders why I married him. That sums it up right there. James is so earnest, so kind and so very humble.

And most importantly of all, James is steady. He is consistent, predictable. That is one of the things that I love about him.

Oh, I can see why other girls enjoy being with Siegfried and Tristan, they are very appealing.

But not to marry. Siegfried goes on about Tristan being lazy and irresponsible and in all his anger; he seems to forget that he himself is very much that way.

Siegfried may be witty, intelligent and very charming, but he can very tiresome with his initiatives and his flamboyance.

Tristan. Well, Tristan drinks too much and flirts with too many women to make a happy marriage, at least for me. But his pranks are very funny.

Between Tristan and Siegfried, well, in Skeledale House, I always feel appreciated and loved. No denying that. When I married James, I gained two very affectionate, charming brother-in-laws.

I hear the whispers though, about why I didn't marry Richard Edmundson, but I just ignore them. Richard, dear friend though he may be, would have taken me from all I am.

I love animals and cows, and making bread and wallpapering. I enjoy it, and it is my life. James would never try to make me into something I'm not; he just worships me as I am. That is a very heady feeling.

With Richard I would just sit in a fine house and be his trophy wife. There is no doubt that he is in love with me, but I still can't be quite sure that he didn't just love the thought of me, a beautiful and charming wife.

But James loves _me. _That is enough. James is steady, dependable. A rock, if you will. Siegfried, Tristan and Richard just can't compete.


	3. Good

**Title: **Good

**Author name:** DocJorgensen  
**Category**: Friendship, Family, Fluff

**Characters: **Siegfried

**Ships: **None

**Rating:** K  
**Spoilers: **None  
**Summary: **Siegfried thinks about life.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own ACGAS. Mr. Wight does.  
**Author Notes:** Eh, just something that I was thinking about in AP Latin, when I was translating Book IV of the Aeneid.

_**Dedication:**__ To Doc, who has to be one of the sweetest men alive._

* * *

Sometimes Siegfried thought that no one appreciated what work he did. It was often that he thought this at the end of a bone-breaking shift, when he was cold and lonely and returning to an empty, silent house.

But tonight, tonight Siegfried knew that life was well worth the living.

The whippet on his lap whimpered in appreciation as he caressed her soft fawn ears, and ran down the length of her back.

His clothes were dry; he wasn't caked in blood, mud or feces. He didn't smell like them either.

Dinner had been a delightful affair, Tristan was exceptionally witty and James had enjoyed himself, Mrs. Hall had done marvelous things with the roast that made Siegfried's mouth water just thinking about them.

The fire was just warm enough to make him feel mellow, though no doubt the glass of fine scotch in his hand was contributing to that. The fine scotch that Tristan had thoughtfully poured for them after dinner.

Siegfried felt his eyelids easing down with the pleasant tiredness of a full work day, and he shifted, stretching out the kinks in his back and the stiffness in shoulders. He cracked open one gray-blue eye, just enough to check that James was ensconced just as comfortably as he was and Tristan wasn't making mischief.

James looked half asleep already, his head drooping down from his shoulders, the serious lines in his face smoothed out with the comfort of a warm fire and fine beverage. Tristan was flipping through a magazine, no harm there.

Siegfried patted the whippet again, as he sighed slowly.

Ah yes, he thought, life was good.


	4. Touching

**Title: **Touches

**Author name:** K. Jorgensen

**Category**: Friendship

**Characters: **Siegfried, James

**Ships: **None

**Rating:** K  
**Spoilers: **None  
**Summary: **James learns of a peculiar, though endearing trait of Siegfried's.

**DISCLAIMER:** Heu! Habeo nihil.  
**Author Notes:** This was just something I was thinking about as I was watching Creatures. Just platonic, people, please.

_**Dedication:**__ To Mrs. Jipson, ah books!_

Very early on, James noticed one of Siegfried's easily missed, slightly odd, though very endearing trait of touching. It was not something he did deliberately, but just the odd hand on the shoulder, elbow to the ribs, knees touching.

There was, something very endearing about it, a casual comfort given by Siegfried's hand under his elbow, steadying him up the stairs after a long, bitter night or the way Siegfried's knees would end up touching his on the couch.

A warm, firm grip on his shoulder, gently squeezing, as James had to go out and face some odious and tedious job.

It was nice. Actually, it was more than nice. It was the kind of generous, thoughtful gesture that Siegfried, in his chivalrous, gentlemanly way, was always popping out with.

It was the kind of thing that made James feel accepted, comforted, and even loved. Sometimes with Siegfried, it was hard to know where you stood between his initiatives, his flash-pan temper and his sense of mischief.

But always there was Siegfried's hand; kind, affectionate, and warm, riding easily on James' shoulder.


	5. Stallions

**Title: **A Couple of Stallions and One Prize Filly

**Author name:** K. Jorgensen

**Category**: Friendship, Drama, Romance

**Characters: **Helen, James

**Ships: **None

**Rating:** K  
**Spoilers: **None  
**Summary: **James bewails the Farnon brothers to a not quite sympathetic Helen.

**DISCLAIMER:** Heu! Habeo nihil.  
**Author Notes:** I was watching Pigs, Pups and Pickles, Season 2, episode 12 I think? This was flashing through my head.

_**Dedication:**__ To poor Siegfried and Tristan, charming though they may be, James seems to have won out. _

* * *

Watching the pair of Farnon brothers was ridiculous.

"It is ridiculous. Just plain ridiculous, Helen!" James said, with some heat, arms folded, as he stared stonily ahead.

"What is, dear?" She hadn't looked up from her sewing, on the other side of the sofa.

"Like a pair of hound dogs, or stallions! The way Tristan and Siegfried go sniffing after every girl in their path!" James cried in disgust "And worst, they get them!"

"Well, Siegfried and Tristan are rather charming, besides it's just the way they are, James. " Helen said, looking up and putting down her needlework.

"But really, Helen?" James gave her a look of long suffering distaste. "Siegfried noses after Tristan's girlfriends and seduces them, and Tristan? He does the same thing to Siegfried. And if there is a free woman in the sight of both of them? Well!" James shook his head, fairly well annoyed with the brother's antics.

"Flies to honey, James?" Helen interjected softly.

"Yes," He nodded vigorously, "Or fillies to stallions. And I - " Helen quickly interrupted with:

"Are you feeling jealous, James?"

"Of course not! All I – " James suddenly went very silent, only slightly distracted by Helen's hand, sneaking up from his knee, and her gentle kiss a second later.

Silence.

Siegfried and Tristan?

Let them nose about.

He already had the prize filly.


	6. Indifference

**Title: **Indifference

**Author name:** DocJorgensen  
**Category**: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Drama (I suppose)

**Characters: **Siegfried,Tristan

**Ships: **None

**Rating:** K  
**Spoilers: **None  
**Summary: **Tristan thinks about Siegfried,

**DISCLAIMER:** Behold! I own nothing.

**Author Notes:** Because I have been neglecting Tristan of late. Thought I'd take his point of view for a moment. Cheers Toxo!

**Ramble: **Mrs. Hall's accent is difficult to do. And does it bother anyone else that Robert Hardy is so old?

* * *

Indifference was a cold and cruel master.

An indifferent Siegfried was worse than an angry one. Far worse.

Tristan flicked the Woodbine from his fingers, stuffed his gloves back on, and picked up the axe again.

Siegfried was always bossing him around. Tristan took a swing, splitting the log satisfactorily. He flicked the pieces to the side skillfully, and put another log up.

Didn't he understand that indifference, **his **indifference was beyond anything that Tristan could bear?

Tristan cut another log and another in quick succession, his anger, despair and hurt rising within his chest, and with the exertion.

He started smashing at another, cutting, pounding at it incessantly; wanting to hurt it, to hurt his brother.

_Smash! Crunch! _The log, soon cut in half, afterward quartered, then smashed into fragments, finally splinters. A final axe blow sent the splinters, shuddering and quivering, all over the cold grass.

Stupid, bloody Siegfried!

Tristan's breath game in gasps, the short, sharp puffs visible in the cold air. For an instant, his eyes watered up, and he threw the axe down, scrubbed at his eyes with his coat sleeve and took up an armful of wood.

He passed through the back door, and unloaded it in the wood bin, brushing the wood chips from his coat.

Mrs. Hall looked intently at it, and then nodded her head in approval.

"Enough wood, I think, Mr. Tristan." Tristan sighed, and then slowly trudged back out to grab the axe. He swung it slowly in half circles, looking drearily at the ground.

The sun had sunk and slowly the sky had turned dark as he passed into the kitchen again, setting the axe beside the wood bin, and took off his jacket, hanging it in the hall.

He went, discouraged, into the sitting room, throwing himself gracelessly on the settee.

Too moody to pour himself a drink, or even light a cigarette, he just stared off into the distance.

His fatigue slowly overcame him and he settled into the coach, just drifting off to sleep. The sounds of Siegfried bustling through the hall were not enough to startle him awake and he drifted between wakefulness and slumber. Siegfried opened the door to the sitting room.

"TR--" Siegfried started to bellow, then saw Tristan on the couch. "Tristan, m'boy." He said quietly, shaking his head at the splinters still on his brother's sweater and pants. He moved quietly and smoothly across the room, and poured himself some whiskey.

He sipped it slowly, just looking at his brother. Whiskey finished, he placed the glass down and walked to the coach.

"Little brother."He whispered softly, fondly, to himself more than Tristan.

And gently, lovingly squeezed Tristan's shoulder.

Tristan, at peace, finally slept.


	7. Rumours

**Title: **Rumours

**Author name:** DocJorgensen  
**Category**: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Drama, Angst  
**Characters: **Siegfried,James, Random Farmer

**Ships: **None

**Rating:** K  
**Spoilers: **None  
**Summary: **Siegfried and James deal with some nasty rumours circulating about Siegfried and Helen.

**DISCLAIMER:** Behold! I own nothing.  
**Author Notes:** This is ficlet coming from a conversation Toxo and I had about Siegfried possibly (?!) having an affair with Helen. We both agreed that we didn't have the guts to do that, or quite frankly, the stomachs to deal with the revulsion, but this idea came to me, as if in a dream. Anyway, cheers Toxo!

If anyone catches the second reference, I might be willing to write them a custom one-shot.

* * *

The rumours started, as rumours do, in quiet, and in sparse patches. But wicked rumour, swift and cruel [1], soon spread to all Darrowby, and the surrounding farms.

James heard nothing, at first. Then he started to hear, just a little whisper in the pub, in the market, from the laborers on the farms.

"Poor bugger. Nowt to do with me. But yon vitnery? His wife, they say, aye that's right, Vitnery's wife and Mr. Farnon." A nudge, a wink, a conspiratorial elbow to the ribs, then snickers and in some, outright bellows and roars of laughter.

At first James couldn't believe it. Then with the outspreading of the gossip his blood came to a boil.

That was how Siegfried found him, sitting stiffly erect on the settee in the sitting room, slamming back whiskey.

"Bloody ignorant-minded villagers. Damn and blast!" James swore, choking down whiskey, the decanter nearly empty.

He felt the burn of the alcohol, the slight inebriation, nothing compared to the wrath that circled inside of him, just looking for an outlet.

The anger, brewing and scorching through his body made his hands shake and his whiskey slop against the edge of the glass.

"Hell!" The taste of the word was bitter in his mouth, dark and harsh but somehow fitting.

"James! There are ladies in the house." Siegfried rebuked him mildly. "And what are you doing, drinking this early in the day?" He tried to pull the whiskey decanter from James' hands.

"I'll drink if I feel like it, Siegfried." His speech was only slightly slurred. "And haven't you heard? You're having an affair with my wife." It sounded bitter, and meant to hurt. Siegfried startled. "Leave me alone." He made as if to throw the decanter, and Siegfried grabbed his wrist and the bottle, tugging it from his hands.

"James. Drinking is not going to solve this. We have to act like reasonable, mature adults, knowing that there is no truth in these rumours. They are no reason to lose your temper and start swearing constantly, now are they?" Another mild rebuke from Siegfried, which only served to enrage James.

"Aren't they?" James looked angrily at Siegfried, the whiskey catching up to him.

"No they are not." Siegfried said firmly, still holding on to James' wrist. He pulled him off the couch and up into his arms. James staggered, inebriation taking hold. "C'mon, m'boy. I think some rest will do you good." Siegfried, arm around James' chest, helped him up the stairs, James' head laying on his shoulder. He helped him to his rooms, then when Siegfried had turned to go and was shutting the door, James called out;

"Siegfried?" The word was definitely slurred now.

"Yes, James?" Siegfried turned in the door, and looked at James, who must have been seriously drunk, that he let these next words escape;

"They aren't true, are they?" They made Siegfried feel as though he'd been shot, but he showed the incredible sensitivity that was his hallmark and simply replied;

"Of course not."

The incident passed, and so did most of the gossip, dying away into light whispers and shadows, creeping back from whence it came, except once.

It was on a visit to Mr. Benson's farm, after we had finished castrating a fine young colt. He started snickering as we turned to leave, and murmured, not quite under his breath enough;

"Vitnery's wife and Mr. Farnon." And he chuckled, just a light little laugh, but enough to set James' temper off, who took one step quickly forwards. Only to be stopped, by Siegfried's hand on his arm, quite tightly.

"I'll handle this, James." His voice was low, and in control, but James could see that the famous temper was off and running, his fist clenched and unclenched, his teeth gritted together, and James almost swore he could see the tendons in his neck standing out.

There was no fire, no brimstone, no blood, but Mr. Benson backed up as though Siegfried was the very Devil himself. Siegfried made no physical gestures, no poking the shoulder, and his voice was quiet.

"You, Mr. Benson, you bloody idiotic son of an ignoramus, if I ever, ever hear you say such things again, you will live to **regret** it. Is that understood?" He bit the words off, as if it were physically painful, and his voice contained so much anger and malice it was hard to keep from shuddering.

"Ye-e-es, Mr. Farnon." Mr. Benson looked as though he wanted to add a sir, but his terror kept him silent and shaking. Siegfried said nothing else, just turned and headed into the car.

A few minutes later, he turned and said; "James, I need a drink. In great quantities."

* * *

[1] – Aeneid, Book 4.


	8. Seducing Siegfried

**Title: **Seducing Siegfried

**Author name:** DocJorgensen  
**Category**: Friendship, Romance

**Characters: **Marjorie, Siegfried Farnon

**Ships: **Marjorie/Siegfried

**Rating:** K+  
**Spoilers: **None.  
**Summary: **Marjorie and Siegfried.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own anything, unfortunately.  
**Author Notes:** This has been bubbling around for a while, so I wrote it.

_**Dedication:**__ To __Mr. Bradley, good luck._

_

* * *

  
_

Being kissed by Siegfried, Marjorie decided, was far too heavenly. There was just something about the man was far too addicting. And didn't she know it.

The way he grabbed you and pressed you against himself, so possessive. His strong, lean arms wrapped him securely around Marjorie, as he ravaged her gently, as only Siegfried Farnon, veterinary surgeon, Gentleman and Esquire Extraordinaire was able to do.

Even after he left, Marjorie was still thinking about the vivacity in those grey blue eyes, that clever tongue and hmm, the nice broad shoulders and lean waist.

She smirked inwardly to herself, the way that man filled out a suit was nearly sinful, and his long lean figure and strong hands were far too excellent an asset not to take advantage of.

Oh yes, Marjorie thought, leaning back on the sofa, Siegfried was a very desirable man, and eligible at that.

She licked her lips in delight.

"Mrs. Siegfried Farnon" she rolled it off her tongue, nearly purring with pleasure, "Yes, I rather like the sound of that."

Siegfried Farnon would never know what hit him.


End file.
